


Silence

by jacarsia



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - High School, Animal Sacrifice, Blood and Violence, Bullying, Character Death, Damian is a rich boy, Demons, Disturbing Themes, F/M, Human Sacrifice, I didn't know he was French when I wrote this so he's an Irish boy, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Jameson is Irish in this, M/M, Marvin likes to cuddle, Murder, Pregnancy, Sacrifice, Sexual Violence, Suicide, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 16:06:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14336115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacarsia/pseuds/jacarsia
Summary: When no words of help slip past the onlooker's mouth, they may as well be silent.





	1. When It All Began

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SinpaiCasanova](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinpaiCasanova/gifts).



> I wrote this for a contest a friend of mine was holding near the end of last year, and at that time Jameson, who is a major character in this, didn't have too much character information, and so I was lead to believe his name was Jackson. I've tried fixing that mistake, as well as changing Schneep to Henrik as I also didn't know that was his name, but I may have missed some spots.

Talking had never really been . . . for me. I found my accent annoying and wished not to be made fun of for it, I could tell that the others around me had the same belief. I found myself following the same rules my mother did: don't speak unless spoken too, for a silent wife was a good wife. But this just got me into more trouble in the future then I could ever even begin to imagine.

 

There was a large crash and thud that seemed to freeze everything and everyone around the source of the sound; a grunt had mixed its way in there, falling from split lips, mingling with the small flow of blood that trickled out of a smaller framed man's mouth and down his chin where it collected and dropped from his scruffy chin onto his brown and black scarf, a few even splattering onto his faded green button up. The boy's old, tattered brown book bag fell from where it had been situated on his shoulder, landing on the ground next to him and only adding to the noise, spilling its contents as the crash had finally broken the little leather strap that was suppose to hold the flap of it down. But no one kept their eyes on the objects that rolled out of the torn, single strapped bag, as everyone's focus had been captured and their gazes fixed on one of two people: the pale, green eyed brunette who was rolling onto his stomach and pushing himself up onto all fours while his arms trembled, or the equally as pale blue eyed man standing over the male on the floor, a grin on his lips as he watched the younger he'd sent to the ground attempt to get back up. He didn't give him the time to do such a thing though, he lifted one of his work boots and sat his foot on the base of his spine, shoving him forward and onto his face with a harsh kick as he laugh once more. Angry, toxic green eyes shot daggers up at the laughing man, a sneer pulled at the sides of his lips, lifting enough to show his abnormally sharp canines, putting them on display for anyone to see, even causing a few of the surrounding people to back away from the scene. Though they didn't leave. And although the man on the ground was shaking everyone in that crowd knew fully well it wasn't from fear. 

Anti was never afraid.

Once again the Irishman moved to try and sit up, this time though he stayed facing the larger man, normally he'd make a show of turning his back to him, but he was getting irritated faster than usual; maybe it had something to do with that little bag that no one appeared to notice, or the strap his mother had sewn onto it before he got on the ship to come to this Godforsaken country. This time when the work boots lifted to shove him back down he reached out and snatched his thin ankle, wrapping both hands around it and giving it the sharpest tug he could manage, throwing himself back to give it even more power then it initially would have. There were gasps from all the onlookers as he brought the other man down to his level, a loud pop sounding from his leg at the tug and an even louder one from his hip hitting the pavement. He grinned with wide, insane eyes that matched his crazed giggle that busted from his bloody lips at the sight of the stronger male on the ground and the loud sound of him hitting that surpassed the sound of his victim's. But Anti was used to this treatment, he knew how to brace himself for the fall, the other did not, and the fact that he had landed on his back gave him no time to properly move, his hip bones and lower back taking the majority of the blow. But as soon as he had released his foot so he could sit and create that psychotic sound he called laughter, as soon as the shock had faded from his system, he was shoving himself onto his knees and tackling the green eyed man, holding him onto his back with his hands dug into the skin around his neck, his palms pressing against his throat, effectively cutting off the airflow through his windpipe. 

But Anti was never afraid.

He laughed, forcing more of that precious oxygen from his starving lungs, sure he could hold his breath for an impressive amount of time, but his laughter was taking up most of it and if he didn't stop soon his vision would begin to swim and he'd start seeing spots of black dance across his eyes. The elder man growled down at him in response to this abnormal behavior, squeezing a little harder and almost barking in his face like the dog he behaved as when he spoke.

"The hell ya laughin' at ye bluenosed cake-eater!?" The insult raised snickers of amusement from the majority of the men that were watching the scene take place, while a few girls became distressed by the rude words, tugging at the sleeves of their boys to try and get their attention, try and insist that this wasn't okay, but they were justly ignored; the few gentlemen of the crowd brought their hands up to cover the pearl pierced ears of their girls, trying to shield their ears and eyes from the crude scene by taking them away from it. A respectable women shouldn't see such a sight. 

Anti just laughed harder, tears welling along his waterline and streaming down his cheeks as he gasped and choked, but he refused to stop laughing, and eventually the other had to loosen his grip on his throat as his face was turning a dark red, and as much as he'd love to watch the little vermin lose consciousness, he was more intrigued by the ideas of what more he could do to him to stop now. But Anti didn't even take the time he was given to get more air into his lungs, laughing so hard that he had began to tremble and squirm under him, reaching up to grab at the sides of the others buttoned up jean jacket, holding it tight and pulling him down hard enough to undo two of the buttons and show more of his dirtied white undershirt. 

Plain and roguish clothes for a plain and brash man that somehow won the eyes of such a pretty woman.

"Jus' t'a fact that ye act like yer some sorta bimbo when you'r nothin but a Reuben wit' yer Sheba followin' behind yah like the hotsy-totsy choice bit of calico she is." Most of the remaining women felt their blood boil at the comment and suddenly there was no more remorse for the Irishman, a few sent looks towards a long haired brunette who stood wide eyed behind her boyfriend, shocked and slightly upset by what had been said about her. But it wasn't like she had the room to complain, he could have said so much worse and it all would have been true. It was almost like he switched eye color, because suddenly those bright blues were as dark as any chocolate brown ones, narrowing in on Anti's smug smile, and before anyone could react he pulled back his arm and sent his curled fists right into the side of his face, snapping his head to the side with a sick crack that made even some of the men wince.

"Don't talk 'bout my girl like that yah lil rat!" His enraged shout sent a spray of spit that flew from his lips and struck Anti all over the face, much like the next punch that smashed into the same cheek as before and slammed his opposite temple into the ground with the force of the bailer's blow. The hits were enough to stir him from his little manic session he'd been stuck in seconds before, the blinding rage that so often plagued his sickly mind bubbling once more in his stomach and quickly rising through his veins and poisoning his cold heart, allowing the doors that kept the real him locked away in the absence of his subconscious to splinter a little more. He turned his head back to the older man, sealing his lips so he could gather as much as the thick substance -that was flowing over his tongue and up from his gums- into his mouth as possible, spitting it up in a strong wad that hit him directly in the face and under one of his eyes, the blood splashed across his cheeks and dripped down into his thin facial hair. Anti growled at him afterwards, his teeth covered in a thick layer of bright crimson that was also stuck in his own beard, his eyes watched with wide and angry glee as his attacker reeled back in disgust, rubbing desperately at his eyes and face to get the liquid off of him while he cursed like a sailor. 

"Come on ye pansy! Let me up an' we can fight like men!" But that wouldn't happen, it wasn't how he fought, and had it been then maybe Anti could have stood a chance against the daily torment he was put through by the hands of this hate filled youth, gotten a few licks in on him and while those weren't likely to knock him down he was fast and flexible, he could use that. Once he saw that the smaller male was trying to get back up he instantly put a stop to it, tangling his fingers in his greasy brown and grey littered locks, getting a good and strong hold on him before smashing the back of his skull into the pavement with a little too much force. Stars erupted behind his eyelids upon the hard impact, flashing in the sky and across the country clothing of the other man in their fast little twinkles as searing white pain robbed him of his breath for a few seconds more, reaching a horrible gasp from him. By this time in the "fight" the vast majority of the crowd had left either in boredom of the oh-so frequent occurrence or because they no longer wanted to watch this uncivilized sight continue to unfold, this left a half dozen people to stand witness to this beating, surprisingly to scared to leave the scene. It was odd to think that they were worried about what would happen to the boy, that if they left they would see his name in the obituaries by the end of the week, but they did absolutely nothing to stop it. 

Even as his hearing blared and nothing but white noise seemed to surround Anti, he still heard the crunch of gravel that coincided with quick paced footsteps approaching him from off in the distance, but his impaired hearing only made it sound far away, for they were actually quite close. But he didn't know this, nor did his attacker who was still screaming in his face despite the dazed look in his eyes that should have told the imbecile that he wasn't being understood even remotely. 

"Unhand him you bloody brute!" 

Anti could barely hear the thickly accented shout and only realized that new people had arrived when the shouts that had been damaging his ears and giving wake to a searing headache stopped and he was roughly released to fall back onto the sidewalk with a strangled grunt. Lazily he turned his head towards the scene of new shouting, the move alone sending more fog before his eyes and allowing him to see nothing but three blurred figures stood side by side in contrast to the one silhouette he could recognize, this distinction was mostly because all the others wore nice clothing, easily upstanding his farmer hand-me-downs. His vision slowly began to focus and as it did he was able to see someone push away from the little group and rush over to him, they were still a blob to him and he had no clue who it was, so he swung at them in an attempt to defend himself, but his whole body was sore and in pain and he had to bite down on his tongue to stop himself from crying out at the sharp pain that cut through him like knives just from moving his head to the side with his arm. 

But Anti never truly cried.

At the same time the shadows he was seeing began to shift and form into people that he could make out and identify, his head was being pulled gingerly into someone's lap, their plump thighs and soft pant material making the best pillow he could have ever asked for; with a flicker of his eyes he stared at the newly formed group and saw that he knew everyone in it, and even in his cold and mentally unstable state he was able to crack a smile, blood pouring down to his chin once there was a wide enough opening with his parted lips. 

He watched with this ugly bloodied smile as the largest man in both height and the broadness of his chest, Will, bent his arms and lowered himself into a predatory pose as he shouted into the man's face, his mahogany eyes were wide and wild much like Anti's own bright green ones, that prominent black mustache of his twitched with each movement of his lips and he brightened his battered friends smile in the almost unnoticeable action. Those loud screams of anger that really did nothing to help his pounding head filled to the brim with his anger and odd foreign curses, some of which only Anti knew, were slurred by his thick European accent but instantly ceased when a firm, silk covered hand settled on his shoulder from behind, causing the man to go silent and step back so he could see the who had grabbed him, his anger turning to relief in less then a second, even somewhat joy came to him upon seeing the calm face of his "secret" lover. 

"Oh Damian! This-this . . bastard was harming Anti once more and I just had to put a stop to it but the damn brute just won't-" the elder man shifted his hand, gliding it up his partners neck and gently taking ahold of his chin, effective cutting off his rambling all while keeping Will's head turned towards him, his eyes drifted over to look at his distraught face, though he didn't move otherwise. 

There was a flicker in his eyes that only Will could see and understand, there must have been as this . . . indescribable look came across his face with the eye contact. 

"I can put the pieces of this ghastly scene together myself William." Even the simple move of dropping his hand was swift and elegant, this form following him as he stepped forward and his dark eyes, cold and unmoving sweeping over the face of the snarling man, his arms folding behind his back while his chest puffed out to show who the boss of the situation was, that he was now in control. He tilted his head slightly to the side, his lips quirking down a bit as a flash of distaste and hatred washed over his face for a brief moment before instantly leaving, though it had still been there. 

"Robert." The name was all that could get past his lips before he was met and cut off rudely with a rebuttal.

"It's Robbie, Damian." The addressed man waved him off with a quick flick of his wrist, swinging his hand with the move, uninterested eyes still resting on his form as he sighed in the closest thing he could apparently feel to annoyance.

"I must not have to go through this once again, correct? Or are you truly as thick headed as that failure of a ossified farmer you call your father?" If it had been any other man in the entire world who had said something like that to him, regardless of their age, Robbie would have legitimately torn their head from off its perch on the shoulders, or he would have at least tried to do such a gory deed, but this wasn't just anyone and so he bit his tongue and glared up at him with as much burning fury as any star could ever offer. 

"No." His hastily spat out response earned him a displeased look and a big show on Damian's part as he lifted his hand and patted away a stray drop of spit that had landed on his cheek with the white napkin that he had folded in his black blazer's pocket. He looked down to make sure it was still folded and respectfully pushed it back into its proper place, grabbing onto his lapels to adjust his suit so his hands could once again lay in rest behind his back.

"Good." The answer was rather simplistic, especially for someone such as the suit clad young man, but it delivered everything he wished to say in the one simple word, showing with its brief pronunciation how he wanted nothing more to do with this scum of the earth he identified Robbie as. With a quick and impatient move William and Damian were left by themselves to stand up to the tyrant, but it was no problem as the confrontation was already over and had been won by the same side that always did, even if it would have set Robbie off, the larger man would have no problem with putting him back in his place with little to no effort whatsoever. The third person who had made up the party of four had stood and listened to the conversation in an itching impatience, his fingers twitching as he resisted the urge to dart away and look Anti over, try and assist the damage and tend to his wounds; obviously he had lost this internal battle as he stepped away and hurriedly made his way over to his friends, kneeling beside the both of them while he met eyes with the more conscious one.

Anti rolled a bit in his friends lap, his unfocused stare turning skyward and catching a glimpse of the younger German who was setting careful and steady hands on his body to try and see how damaged he really was, it made him laugh though and caught the two's attention immediately, green meeting two pairs of blues. 

"More a da face doc'." His snicker lasted only seconds before a violent tremor tore through his lithe body and caused him to jerk forward despite his pounding head, he spewed a large amount of blood, decorating his pants in the random patterns and sending large, clumped globs of clots spilling down into his scarf. Tears unintentionally rolled down his cheeks from the pain, spilling from his wide eyes once his waterline could no longer hold them back. 

"Turn 'im to hiz zide Marvin!" Said man did exactly as he was instructed by 'Doc', acquiring a steady grip on Anti's shoulders that he used to turn him in his lap so that his mouth faced down, he quickly understood why he had been told to do this as Anti began to dry heave, nearly choking on his own blood that gathered in the back of his throat. With his wide, scared cyan eyes he looked up to the other in a desperate need for instructions, he needed to know what to do to help his struggling friend and he was completely clueless, left in the dark on any form of medical situation.

"He-enrik, wh-hat do I-?" Marvin was promptly ignored though by the very person he needed guidance from, the doc reached down and cupped his friends face, grasping his chin and forcing it open once he saw Anti try and close it and swallow -as proven by his bobbing Adam's apple- the thick, metallic tasting liquid.

"Don't you dare! You vill only choke and make it vorse! The human body iz not meant to consume blood." He held his mouth open for a few more seconds before he received a nod of acknowledgement from Anti, he released him and let his jaw close so he could gather more blood and spit a large amount out at once instead of hurting his throat by continuously spitting, sure he was staining and more then likely ruining Marvin's nice black dress pants by doing this, but he would never complain or get angry at him for such a trivial thing. 

And unlike Anti, he could easily afford a new, and better, pair of pants. 

Slowly his airways we're opening up more and more without the blockage, allowing him to suck in huge breaths of air in desperate gasps, tears cascading down, and mixing with all the other liquids on his face, further creating a mess that would already be hell to clean. Once he could properly breath he sat back up, his wavering body was supported by the hands of the other two who grabbed onto his arms and held him still, limiting his rocking. Surprisingly, and regardless of his array of injuries and his weak state he didn't appear affected by them when his eyes fell on the back of a retreating Robbie, his arm wrapped around the wide hips of his short and beautifully curvy woman, she was turning her head to try and see more of what was going on. Still she did nothing. 

The growl he omitted was deep and animalistic, rumbling it his sore throat and strained chest, he pushed himself to his feet, much to his friends shock and concern, shoving them off of him and taking a few blind steps forward as he shouted out after the two.

"You'll fuckin' pay!! Ye hear me!?" But he may as well have taken a tommy gun and pointed it at his chest as the pain was so immense from that bursting scream that it sent him toppling into the arms of his awaiting saviors at its rippling effect on his body had cut through him and caused his knees to buckle beneath him; gently he was lowered back to the ground and into a comforting embrace provided by Marvin, who wrapped his arms securely around Anti and began to nuzzle into his neck. But it would do nothing to help Anti as his emotions had once more gotten the best of him and caused him to act before he could think of the consequences, his body was hurting too much and that extra boost of pain was all that his mind needed to confirm its need and set it into action. Anti raised his hand as fast as his muscles would allow him, but it was quite slow and by the time it had settled in the neatly combed light brown hair that was pressed against his cheeks he could get out no more than a weak giggle to tell him how much he appreciated the comforting and seemingly passionate actions before his eyes fluttered shut and he went limp in his friends arms. Passing out was probably the best thing that could have happened to him at this moment in time, but in his final second of consciousness he had spotted the retreating figure of someone as they tried to escape this situation, but Anti was no fool and didn't really have to think about who it was as their signature bowler cap gave them away, as did their expensive blue vest. All he had to think about was what he would do to make them all pay, the plans and ideas formulating within his mind and allowing that monster out from behind his scratched and beaten door for just a few hours to help with the details and how to achieve what he wanted, but it didn't take long for a virus to settle in and create its roots in their host, and this was no simple virus that could be wiped out with a thermos of broth.

I knew fully well that he had seen me run like the coward I was, but I kept on like he hadn't.

Marvin's body went rigged with fear once he felt this shift, the sudden weight in his arms that had not been there before, one of his hands shooting out to grab Anti's slipping grip and trying his best to hold it in his hair for longer, but eventually he gave up and moved it into his lap, using that hand to slip under his knees and pull him to his chest like a groom might do as he carried off his bride, or a mother when she intended on putting her child to sleep. He saw movement from the corner of his eyes and his first thought was to protect this man that he saw as a sibling to him, his head snapping up to meet the gaze of whoever had stepped forward and into his line of sight, his jaw dropping open to show his surprisingly long canines, his lips flaring back to show his teeth more and let out a long and prominent hiss that could have fooled any ally cat. Henrick didn't seemed too perturbed by the odd behavior of the somewhat small and innocent looking man, in fact, none of the boys around them gave any second glance at the sound he had created, though of course comments were made on it like on the majority off infrequent occurrences; the medical student raised two hands in defense and held them there until Marvin's lips fell and met one another. 

"He iz not a kitten, you muzt let me make sure he iz alright." He brought himself down on both knees with his hands hung before him, his face told everyone that he was analyzing the status of the fallen Anti, he reached out and once again took ahold of his scruffy chin, noting this time the amount of blood coated across the skin and crusting in his beard, along with the large bruises that painted his pale complexion. He sat his other hand cautiously across his forehead, checking with his pinky and ring finger for any oddity concerning his temperature while gently touching one of his eyelids with his thumb and pulling the thin protective layer of skin back to reveal his eyes that had rolled back. With a final check of two fingers pressed firmly over the carotid artery and his opposing hands thumb checking for his radial pulse he determined the speeds of his heart normal and stood back to his feet, patting the dirt from his hands with no regards to the white material of his trench coat, the behavior making a very dignified Damian cringe in the background.

"How is he?" A worried Will questioned with wide eyes locked onto the limp figure in Marvin's protective arms, slightly relieved from the visible rise and fall of his chest to show that he was still breathing, but the wheezy breaths he was taking in still supplied that fear that all but the doc were showing. 

"Fine, he pazzed out from pain but knoving Anti he vould have continued to push himself to zhe point of exhaustion and hiz body vould have done zhe same zhing." He nonchalantly shrugged in response to the question as if there wasn't a bloodied and beaten friend of his currently before him, shooting a quick glance at the other European man that was enough to get them both bending down to help lift him from Marvin's embrace, taken from those warm and caring arms into Will's as he was the only one in the group, other then Damian, who could actually carry him. Will shifted him in his arms so he held his legs tightly and his head was resting in the nook of his neck, the pose helped him so he wouldn't completely put out his back with the weight, he could easily lift him so that wasn't the problem, he was just having a bit of trouble with keeping the unconscious man in the same position. His slicked haired lover stepped forward and once again rested his hand on his shoulder to gain his attention, the blank expression he had once worn was absent from his features, it was like he had slid a mask on over his true face in order to keep his collected appearance in check, but now that he had removed it the concern in his dark eyes was clear as the blue sky above them.

"William, please let me take him I don't want you to-"

"I won't drop him." He interjected, not even letting him finish his proposal before he was turning on his heal with Anti securely tucked in his arms, beginning his little march down the sidewalk, noticing how the further he got from the spot the less gravel there was to worry about slipping on. The other three shared looks before they began to jog to catch up to him, not wanting to be left behind. They were up to speed with him when Damian began to look around for a moment, taking in the view of the basically deserted street with no people to walk along it, well, it was more like an alley in all reality that led to the railroad track that everything had happened at; there were a few vehicles that went past at the end of the street and the sight was enough to give him the motivation to step in front of Will and stop him in his tracks. He reached out and tenderly traced the back of his fingers down his lover's cheeks, an adoring smile rising to his lips when he watched him lean into his touches. He leant down to press their foreheads together, a longing gleam in his eyes that added perfectly to his shy and goofy smiled that widened when a look of shock came over the others face, his eyes quickly darting around to make sure no one except their friends were watching. 

"D-Damian, we're in p-ublic." He attempted to reason with him, but all he did was spawn a deep and quiet laugh that made his knees weak and sent tingles through him, his eyes fluttering shut when their lips brushed and the elder did his best not to push against Anti, as he was literally between them.

"And since when have you been perturbed by such a thing?" He questioned, yes this was extremely out of behavior for the sophisticated man who was deathly afraid of anyone having even an inkling of thought on his secret relationship, it could ruin everything not only he had built up, but his father as well. William knew this fully well, which is why he pressed a little closer to get a small peck on his soft and plump lips before he was stepping back to make the scene more normal, a blush on his cheeks and his eyes on the ground to avoid the others dark ones. 

"I was not implying that you were going to drop him my love." He insisted, running his hand over his hair to make sure each piece was in its proper place, stepping to the side when Will began to move forward once more.

"Well, I still won't let you carry him darling, I know how much you adore your suits and refuse to allow this one to get dirty." He motioned towards the nice white and grey tuxedo he was adorned in with a tilt of his head, receiving a sigh from the other that made him smile triumphantly knowing that he had won yet another discussion between them, sure Damian led when they were behind closed doors but he would always have a nice leash and collar around his neck that Will had a good grip on. The other two shared a look, soft smiles on their faces as they watched the interactions of the couple before them, they could never judge and felt nothing but happiness for the two, wishing that they'd one day be able to hold one another's hands in public like everyone else without the fear of imprisonment. 

"Marvin and Henrick, will you sit in the back to make sure that Anti is alright? We'll take him to the hospital and I'll call my father from their." He questioned and informed as another sigh escaped his perfect lips, his hands moving to search through his pockets for his keys once they had turned the corner and came into view of his new Blackhawk parked across the street, the beautiful black and red car glistened in the sunlight that reflected off of its fresh coat of wax. The sight of the vehicle got a loud whistle to leave the doc who checked the street before ushering them across, his soft chuckle showing his intrigue as well as how impressed he was by it. 

"When did ya get zhis beauty?" It made Damian smile proudly, walking around the car to unlock the doors so the others could slip inside. 

"Yesterday, father had it pulled right off the line once it was done, he tried to trade me for my Roadster, but there was no way I was giving up that wonderful car," he laughed at the absurdity of the proposition, "so he kept this one and is letting me use it, nothing like presenting your son to show off your new toys for you." He looked up just in time to watch Henrick remove his coat once he was seated, laying it across his lap, he was a little confused until he saw Will ease in Anti and lay his bloodied head against the material, he was relieved that nothing would get on the leather seats, his father would have his head if there was so much as a little spec of anything anywhere. Everyone climbed in and took their places on the seats, locking their doors and waiting for the driver to start the car, turning the key in the transmission until the engine rumbled loudly to life and he could reach down to shift the gears into drive, his hand resting on the gear for later. William sat his hand on top of his, smiling sadly out of the window at the scenery passing by them, trying to distract his troubled mind.

"Will your father contact that rapscallion's?" He quietly questioned him, squeezing his hand gently before releasing it so he could turn to check on those in the back, causing him to miss the nod he got as an answer, but luckily Marvin had caught it. 

"It must be interesting to have the mayor as your father." He innocently commented with his wide and childish eyes, receiving a deep chuckle from the wealthiest in the car as well as a small shrug of his shoulders.

"It is."


	2. So Much Blood

I knew what he did was wrong, it was so horribly wrong and I should have said something to try and help instead of just standing there to watch him as he beat that pale skin an ugly purple, even black in some places. But my lips never moved in regards to Anti, I never tried to stand up for him.

 

Whoever the absolute genius of the Greeks was who had the idea to take two things that were either strongly loved or extremely hated and mixed it together was obviously sick of the mind and should have never been handed any sort of building tool, the design of the gymnasium encased the large wooden floorboards that served as the court for various school sports and acted as an amplifier, filling the room easily with the noise of hundreds of students who were chatting away with whoever they associated themselves with while they waited for the Pep Assembly to start. Sadly this kind of design made the sounds so much louder and did nothing to help the pounding on the inside of Jackson's skull, playing away on his cranium while a building pressure inside his head made the once headache slowly creep its way towards a migraine that he definitely didn't want. He was sitting in the very back away from everyone at the top of the bleachers, his shoulders slouched down and his legs spread so he could rest his elbows on them and cradle his poor head, he didn't entirely know what had triggered the painful pulsing in his head but he knew that it would only get worse when everything started and the students would be encouraged to stand and scream to show their school spirit. That oh so annoying song that the band was going back through for at least the twelfth time might have been another factor as well, that repetitious fight song that apparently favored the loud trumpets and even louder percussion was helping to drill a hole right through his bones and into his brain, the damn melody was already stuck in his head and if it wasn't for the pain he was already in he probably would have tried bashing it in so he would pass out and not have to suffer through this any longer. After another moment of resting his eyes and trying to relieve a bit of pain he sat himself back up, he arched his back against the wall he pressed back to and rolled his shoulders to pop them, groaning quietly once he did then moving to fix his hair and rub his eyes before he finally felt prepared enough to open his eyes and look out across the gym with a yawn. 

Near the bottom of the bleachers, closest to the hardwood floor, of course were the jocks who were grouped accordingly to their particular sports, the star players along the first line and a few of their girls leaning into their sides with dopey, love sick eyes that only a few of those boys returned, it was sad really. Across from him he spotted the large portion of the richer kids all sitting next to one another, and within that there was a smaller group of four people that he could instantly recognize by name: Marvin, Henrick, William and Damian. They all were sat very close together, closer than anyone else in the entire building, other then the couples of course, but it was for a reason that he could only guessed pertained to the hidden relationship of the older two, it was completely their fault for him discovering this secret though, it wasn't his choice for William to be too impatient and stop Damian from looking over all the stalls before he was all over his . . . boyfriend; the two were most likely holding hands or something of that nature. There was another man who was leaning towards the eldest of that group, and from how fast his lips were moving and that perfected false look of interest on Damian's face they were having a conversation, the other suit clad man wore a cocky smile and continuously stroked certain parts of his blazer or tie. Bim was always quite weird, and every time he spoke it only showed that even more so. 

The chatter that filled the room like thick, suffocating steam was no match for the loud and protruding sound of the drums being quickly struck in some random pattern that effectively drew in everyone's attention to the drummer and pushed their loud shouts to incoherent murmurs, drastically reducing the stuffy feel in his head and allowing Jackson to relax back into the wall with a content sigh, turning himself to the percussionist who's face stole his smile. Once the room was quiet and everyone was focusing on the corner of the room where the band was Anti's glowing green eyes darted over the room and his fingers twirled the drum sticks in an odd way that entranced many until he finally sat it down and motioned towards a younger woman with a completely blank face that was covered in healing bruises and an ugly stitch holding the skin of his bottom lip together. He threw one of his sticks into the air and caught it without looking away from the crowd so he held both in one hand, his body leaning forward and his elbows finding their place on the rim of the high tom toms, he leaned his head in the direction of a little blonde, turning to look at her as he was wondering why she hadn't began to speak yet. The girl realized this and her eyes went wide while her cheeks received a light pink hue that only made her all the more adorable as she ran out to half court in her lace white blouse and ruffled pink knee length shirt, most of her hair was hidden by a white hat but it was still obvious that she was an absolutely stunning bearcat. 

"Thank you all for attending our great assembly today for our even greater school!" She spoke into the small mic in her hand, her sickeningly gleeful expressions and her little cheerful praise got many to cheer in response, and once they cheered everyone else had to as well and soon his head was hurting a little more. A few people in front of him moved to try and get a better view of the peppy girl as she continued to speak in that lovable voice she had the honor of owning, so Jackson had to move a bit to the side in order for he himself to see, and as he did he spotted someone who made the warm blood flowing through his veins run cold. Sitting only four rows down from him was Robbie, his body slouched over as his feet were propped up on the next seat, one arm around his knees and the other wrapped tight around his girlfriend, who leaned into his side and cuddled her head into his shoulder, reaching across to gently rub at his leg; it honestly confused him how such a respectable and sweet girl like Jacklin could stand to even be around someone like him, so dating the brute was a surprise to most. He turned his eyes away from the sight, figuring it would be best not to stress himself out to the point of his head exploding -something he really hoped couldn't actually happen- and instead focus back on the assembly, hopefully it would go by smoothly.

Thankfully it had gone quite fast, mostly because he constantly found himself falling asleep, but nonetheless after a little over seventy minutes had passed the skinny blonde was making her way back to the center with a huge smile on her face, she wore it like it was a part of her and not some accessory like many of the other women who had come up to represent their school had. She stood and faced the side with the large amount of jocks, so Jameson had a clear view of her slim and pale face, along with the few strands of hair that had escaped from her hat from the amount of movement she had been doing, but it fit her well and the two long strands framed her head quite well.

"Well~," she started with drawing out the word, shuffling from one foot to the other in a nervous manner no one had seen before, 

"We at the school board, and I myself, like to know our onions and have decided to give this opportunity to whoever that has something they might want to share," her smile didn't completely fall, just enough for her to bite at her thin, gloss covered lip and look down a bit with shy eyes and a raging blush, 

"or ask." That instantly cleared everybody's confusion up, a few whistles from down in the front row and even one from Henrick surprisingly, they were all aimed at one football player who's wide brown eyes were just bursting with love as he stood up from his seat on the front row, his fluffy ebony hair swept to one side with the sides cut short. A school dance was coming up and all the guys were beginning to plan out big and elaborate ways of asking someone to go with them, but it seemed like Amy wasn't exactly fond of waiting and wanted to be asked now, in front of everyone, but her boyfriend didn't seem too upset. 

He had taken no more than a step forward when that distinctive sound of the drums started up and once more everyone's gaze had been stolen and placed on the small Irishman who was starting to stand up, frowns and glares were sent his way as he approached the girl on the court, he stopped a few feet away from her and held out his hand expectantly, only causing her sweet face to crinkle up in confusion and her smile to completely disappear. With a snarl he reached forward and snatched the mic from her delicate hand, watching with pleasure as she gasped and jumped back, taking a few mores steps away from him before she completely turned and raced towards the Eurasian man waiting for her with open arms that he held her tightly in, hugging her to his chest while he glared at the man who was smiling sadistically. 

"Oh go on an' chase yerself Mark!" His shouted response was only harsh because of the nasty look he was receiving, yet it did little to hurt him, Mark had never been mean to him and in all honesty was the complete opposite, so he really had no reason to act rudely towards him, but he did because that was just who Anti was. An assortment of boos mixed in with vulgar words were being spat at him for the treatment of the schools power couple, different students stood as did the group of his four closest friends, even the older male principle, all were ready to make their way over to intervene in case something were to progress. The insults only bounced off Anti who stood like a concrete wall to the children throwing little bouncy balls at it, his arms were hanging at his side and his eyes were shut, his injured face on full display was enough to waver some and get them to shut their mouths, but it didn't work on everyone and the smirk stretching his broken lips showed that he didn't mind this what so ever, perhaps he enjoyed their comments as he had quite the show planned out with that demon in the back of his mind. 

There was only one problem, the hinges on the door were gone and left nothing to cover up the room the entity slept in, the small ball of black and green vapor in the shape of a man was sitting on the broken door, watching with electric eyes the scene play out before him, sharp teeth on display, his body shaking in excitement for what was to come. 

Slowly Anti pulled his arm up, the mic rising closer to him so he could speak into it while he hung his head, eyes wide open and locked on one person only four seats away from the back row. 

"I 'aven't lived 'ere fer more then t'ree years, all of dem were fer secondary school, an' in t'at time I've come ta resent almost every one of yes." A few people seemed a bit shocked at what he was saying but the most remained uncertain of where he was going and didn't speak up, wanting to hear the rest of what he was saying. Anti lifted his head so he could look around easier, allowing others to see his facial expression that still just consisted of that smirk, he didn't wait any longer before he continued his little speech.

“'ate each one fer a different reason, an' love a few fer the opposite reasons, an' t'ankfully fer me your 'orrible focking country can 'ouse a few good people, but as fer t'e rest of ye, your retribution will come." The crowds opinion on what he was saying had began to form, more shouts being flung at him for talking about their country in such a way as he had and some shouted for how he was talking in general, certain voices reached the green eyed man that he found he should comment on, as they had been loud enough to get others support.

"What are you gonna do?!" He didn't feel like answering them as they would have the answer to that in the next few minutes, so why waste time in explaining, especially to such thick headed idiots as the ones asking this question? So he ignored it and listened out for any more that caught his attention, and this one came from some tall, dark haired basketball player along the first row, only a few feet away from him which made his voice so much clearer.

"You see in this country we don't believe in those weird fucking religions of yours! So we don't have to do shit!" He gained the laughter of most of his teammates and a few others who had heard the jab, but Anti was quick to cut off his joyous period by laughing himself, easily drowning them out with both the mic and his loud nature that made his laughs so much stronger. But these were odd, they were those little insane giggles that he normally only made when he was being beaten up and pounded into the dirt, it was odd for Jackson to hear the sound and yet see no blood on his face. 

"Catholic yeh four-flusher, Ireland is a Christian country." He snapped back in a less than cheerful way, the snarl startling most of the people sat closest to him or the speakers that portrayed his voice and just so happened to be in the corners, thus placing them right next to the headache suffering boy. He rolled his shoulders a few times while he finally began to cut back on his light, high pitched giggles that rolled through the building, lifting the mic back up to his lips as his smirk grew wider and wider until a terrifying grin showed off all his teeth.

"Each one of yeh who deserves it will pay, an' as ye wait fer t'at day you'll continue ta destroy those who deserve all t'e good t'ings in life because t'ats jus' what ye do." It came out as an almost dreamily like sigh, it was as if he had said a completely different sentence about finding that perfect one or traveling, something that would make that happy noise, not this. The crowd was beginning to become uneasy, everyone could feel it in the air, but no one knew what to do or what that feeling even meant. 

"I'm. Done." The cheery little whisper was enough to have the friends across the room to begin pushing through others to try and get down to the floor, they could feel it to, the tension in the atmosphere had changed and something in them said that whatever was going to happen was bad, something that needed to be stopped. 

"An' as fer all of those who jus' stood an' watched as this-," the smile was once again whipped clean from his face like it had never been there, leaving a scowl in its place as he sent an accusing finger at Robbie, "nitwit, took out 'is problem on meh," that accusing finger turned to point at two other people, causing them to freeze in slight terror with wide and scared eyes until the hand fell back to his side and a crazy giggle sounded, "tá do phionós ar a bhealach."

Before anyone could even begin to try and decipher his thick accented words Anti was grabbing at his tucked in shirt, pulling the cloth out of his jeans after he had pushed one suspender from his shoulder, when the shirt was pulled up enough only a few people in the front row could gasp in absolute horror at the sight of the long kitchen knife handle. More gasp and a few screams tore from the lips of all the surrounding students once Anti had grasped the cold handle to quickly pull it from the little makeshift sheath he had made -to prevent the blade from tearing into his thighs, and more importantly what lied between them- and raise it high enough for everyone in the gym to see it. Some stood up in fear they would have to run for their lives in case Anti began swinging at people, teachers rushed closer to him with the intent on detaining him, and the group of his friends feet hit the hardwood floor and hurried across it.

But none of them were able to get to him in time. 

In the blink of an eye the knife was out of the air and the grip on the handle had changed, terrified cries turning into horror filled screams when the blade was lowered down to a pale neck and suddenly it was pressing into the skin and sliding. Anti was slow and casual with the action of slitting his own throat, no sounds of pain coming from him and only the slightest flinch were shown as a reaction. He was halfway through when he pushed down harder, and now there was a sickening sound of the knife not only slicing through skin but muscle and, Jesus Christ, he was pushing down hard enough to slightly open up his windpipe with a revolting crackle. The principle reached him first, just as Anti pulled his hand back and drove the knife into the side of his neck, blood squirting from his severed artery, it was long enough to puncture his windpipe properly and allow the blood to pour down into his lungs, more blood shot out and landed on the hands of the older man once he had pulled the knife out. It wasn't until the blade hit the floor that he seemed to properly respond, his eyes going wide as blood poured down his lips, he reached a hand to touch the thick substance in somewhat confusion, like he hadn't done what he just did. He struggled for air, losing his footing and falling into the arms of the principle while he focused on trying to stop the blood from gushing down from his wounds, disgusting gurgles resulted with every breath, his vision fuzzing up from the copper substance flooding out of his body and the same liquid filling his lungs to effectively drown him. He was laid down onto the floor while the old man that had caught him looked around for the nurse, about to call out to her when he was shoved to the side and a panicking Henrik took his place in hovering over Anti, pulling him into a seating position and leaning him down so he wouldn't choke any faster, his hands were shaking so badly he could barely even hold him still. But as he tried to see what he could fix with Marvin and Damian kneeled down beside them, nearly sobbing while keeping their friend close; William stood a few feet away from them, fat tears rolling down his cheeks from his wide brown eyes.

"Stop." He whispered out, nearly silent in the commotion filled room but just loud enough for the doc to hear him and violently shake his head, applying pressure to Anti's neck with one hand and looking over his jugular with his other. It was cut in half, of course he knew what that meant, but it wouldn't stop him. 

"Henrik st-o-p." His voice cracked horribly between the last word, he ignored the look he was receiving from his boyfriend to instead stare down at the attempts to save Anti, William had been a hunter for much longer then he legally should have, that and the 'training' he'd received from his father to prepare him for the military were enough to tell him that his friend knew what he was doing. Anti had slit his throat the same way you're taught to in the military, across the throat followed by a stab to puncture the jugular, and like any wild prey he was going to bleed out. And as horrible as it sounds, Will hoped he would bleed out before he could drown.

"I-I-I need ta s-ave h-him!" This was the first time the doc had ever been anything but confident, his own tears spilling down his cheeks and choked cries escaping from his lips, his hands were completely covered in blood, but he could care less. 

"I-I can save him." He whimpered pitifully, still following through with his hopeless attempts at fixing this broken boy, and although he knew he could never fix a shattered screen with bandages and gauze, he didn't stop trying until Anti began to smile. That was all it took to crush the false hope that he had been clinging to, crumbling in on himself and allowing his sobs to join the others at his side, the cut was too big for his body to naturally seal and thus heal on sight, and he had lost so much blood that chemicals were being released into his brain to calm him, as a heart attack wouldn't help. His breaths were strangled and heart was off beat, slowing down in an attempt to stop the loss of more of that precious blood, but just by looking at the ground below them and their clothes Henrik could estimate that he had lost nearly two quarters of the five he contained which would mean he was in serious need of a transfusion as he had fallen into a Class 3 hemorrhage. Soon there would be sirens in the background from one of the teachers who had rushed to the office to call for the police, but they wouldn't get here in time. 

Anti looked up at his friends with a huge smile, his brain had effectively calmed him so it could try and assist itself and hopefully fix whatever was wrong, leaving him all happy and unaware that he was actually dying, or maybe he could tell and was simply okay with that realization, perhaps it was a mix of the two. He reached up to cup the soft cheek belonging to Marvin, smearing blood across him in his action of comfort, wiping the tears from his skin and replaced it instead with red. His lips parted and a strangled gurgle left him when he could produce no other sound, more crimson regret leaking from his mouth, following the paths already created down his chin and onto his clothes and friends. Damian crawled around Anti and took his spot settled behind him, hesitantly reaching up to pull off his grey flat cap and sit it to the side of them, brushing back his hair with a weak smile, the Irishman was glad to see that there was no mask on the eldest one. His gaze moved over to the only one who was still standing, his free hand releasing his throat to instead stretch out and offer his dripping hand to William, who almost instantly took it. He sat down next to his lover, needing some form of support that could keep him stable while he hugged the arm close he his chest, nuzzling into the fingers that lazily began to stroke his cheeks. The four all held him as close as they could, either physically holding him or cuddling up to some part of their dying friend, making sure to keep that smile on his face while they fought back their sobs. 

And then the hands that were lovingly holding onto the emotional ones of the group slowly began to fall, until the grip slacked and Anti became limp. Everyone was running around in confusion, no one knew what to do and they all were trying to deal with what was happening in their own way. Many of the girls were crying for Anti, and a few boys were shamelessly following while they tired to comfort whoever was closest to them. 

 

There was no comfort shared with me though, I was left on that top row with wide and horrified eyes, water slowly dripping from those eyes, the last words Anti spoke were echoing in my head and I suddenly hated that I had come from the same land as him and thus spoke the same language. I knew what he said, I was the only other person then himself who did and Anti knew that.


	3. Stop Screaming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Out of the three parts this is the one that is least edited.

The week that followed after the "incident" in the gymnasium had been canceled by the school, all the work that had been due in that time frame would be held and extended until classes would start back up on the next Monday; the school board wanted to give all the students time to recover and heal, after all they had been forced to witness the graphic suicide of a student, and that was no incident. When the ambulance had arrived and the paramedics bursted from the back to rush inside they could only confirm what was already known, they didn't even have to pull the boy from his friends arms to know that he was gone, that he had left the mortal plane and gone on to a different reality that no one could ever explain; or maybe he just disappeared from existence, that burning soul that was so different from the carbon copies around him had just gone and all that was left was a shell that they could only hold onto for so long until it began to rot and decay, leaving them with nothing. There were so many different perceptions on the world that had mingled in this small group of fiv- four there was four now and there would never be a fifth member ever again, the group all saw things differently but they never picked on one another or tried to argue their viewpoint, sometimes they'd discuss them and it was honestly fun. Everyone agreed that Damian had the most interesting idea on what the afterlife would be, that when the body dies the spirit was taken to a realm in which its surroundings matched what was believed to be true in their lives; if one believed in heaven then they would receive their perceived heaven, reincarnation would act accordingly, and the souls of those who were broken and battered would hold on to others like themselves and create a great being with much power from their combined parts. 

The boys had to be pulled from the body of their friend by the ones whose jobs were to save him, and while Marvin screamed and clawed and fought to get back to the lithe framed Irishman he had grown to love as though he were a sibling, Damian held onto William while they sobbed into one another's embrace, no one saw anything in a pair of grieving friends. And all Henrick did was sit in the same pose he had been in when Anti had died, tears pouring from his eyes as the sight just wouldn't go away; he felt it, felt the life slip out of him and now the blood on his hands were cold and crusted. He couldn't get himself to move, and a simple week off of school would never take away the feeling of his best friend dying in his arms, slipping past his fingers faster then he could even understand that he was taking his last breath, the blood would always be on his hands. 

The week would would be just enough time for the teachers to get the stains out of clothing and the mess off the court's hardwood floor. But there were some stains that no amount of cleaner, no matter how strong it was or what brand it was labels as, could ever get remotely close to clearing up, these mental blemishes would forever haunt and torment those they plagued, and there were so many students at this school who now had those imperfections, some of them more noticeable than others. Speaking in regards to noticeability, why couldn't he stop seeing the blood? Why, no matter how much soap he used or how hard he pushed the sandpaper into his skin, couldn't William stop seeing that bloody handprint on his palm? And why did it hurt so much for Marvin to watch his mother hold his little brother in her lap and nuzzle into his soft brown hair? Why did Damian find himself yelling at his father when he said he couldn't arrest Robbie, why did he turn on his sister and scream at her when she told him to calm down? Why couldn't he save him?

All anyone could seem to ask at this point was why. Until the letters began to arrive, then it was how.

The four heartbroken friends stuck in a mixture of grief and shock were the first to begin receiving the unanticipated letters, all were addressed to them of course, and arrived in a different color depending on who it was until a total of three had arrived for all of them, each had a large letter stamped on the front of the envelope in beautiful script. They knew only one person who owned such stamps, and each one was sure that Anti had to have received quite the beating for touching his uncles things in preparation for these letters. Inside the thin colorful paper were nice pieces of folded lined paper with long and meaningful words printed neatly on the pages; it was quite odd, as the Irishman was known for having such bad writing that his teachers constantly struck his hands and made him rewrite whatever he was working on, which he could only achieve when he was writing painfully slow. And that little fact broke all of their hearts, knowing that this wasn't just a passion of the moment act on his part, that he had planned it out and had gone into deep detail. The contents of each letter applied only to the person it was addressed to, their could be multiple papers folded inside one envelope, but a pattern always followed what was written and what wasn't; the first never mentioned anyone else other then Anti and who he was writing to, the second pertained to how they had helped him through problems he had with himself and others, the final mentioned their entire friend group and where they stood. The last letter for every one of them always ended the same, with the messily written I Love You that they had never outright said to one another. 

Once the tears that these wonderful words brought had been shed and, sadly, dropped onto the papers that held them, the four gathered together at the manor owned by the eldest’s father, and there they sat with the envelopes spread across the floor in front of them, possible combinations of words scribbled down on a sheet of paper in the doc's perfected surgeon signature. It had taken hours, but going after the order of the letters and who received them first they were able to come up with one option of what the letters might be spelling that appealed to them the most; but there was one big problem, the final word wasn't complete, and without it they could only guess on what it meant. But they would never find all of the letters that they needed to finish the message, never would anyone be able to get back the one envelope, a bright yellow that matched none of the four boys colors, lost in the vast expense of the postal service; this one was E. The second one that they would need, more than likely the most important one that would make it so much easier to conclude what the entirety of this whole hidden clue said would never be salvageable after it was torn to shreds and thrown down onto sticks to work as kindling; it was R. In fact, there was only one that they would ever be able to lay their eyes upon and add to their collected twelve, although the situation in which they received the final letter from the boy younger than all of them as he tried to choke out almost exactly what they had written down wasn't exactly what they would have wanted.

 

Jameson was found dressed in his favorite outfit as he walked the street not even a block from the postal office he had just left after going there to receive his families mail, as his parents were out to dinner at some fancy restaurant that met his mother's glorious standards and effectively emptied his father's wallet by a great amount. He wore this combination of clothing almost everyday, with only the slightest variations to its overall style (which was no more then a different colored vest and perhaps the absence of his bowler cap) to show that he wasn't wearing the exact same things, it wasn't like he had nothing else to wear, he just really enjoyed this little arrangement. He was flipping through the envelopes in his hands, looking up every few seconds to make sure he wasn't walking into traffic or about to bump into someone, he began organizing the letters in his hands based on what they were and which one of his parents it was addressed to. After the final invitation with fancy calligraphy writing carefully drawn over the front of it he came across a deep shaded blue envelope that had his name neatly printed in the corner and a large E stamped in the middle almost like it was some sort of seal, he froze in his tracks once he had glanced over the return address and the name of the sender, a car honking loudly snapped him out of the little daze he was trapped in and got him running the rest of the way across the crosswalk. He kept on running down the sidewalk even after he was off the street, his blue eyes wide in terror, flickering over everyone in front of him and quickly glancing at the expressions of those he ran past, not really caring about what they thought because all he needed was to get away.

When his pace finally began to slow out of the request of his burning lungs and pounding heart he was left in a small gravel alley that moved over the train tracks only a few hundred feet away from him, just like where you first started reading, it was where the kids that lived along the outside of the city would normally go to as this was where the buses picked them up at. Slowly he drug his sore feet through the rocks until he could turn and push his back into one of the brick walls of the buildings creating this space, sliding down it almost as if choreographed until he was seated back against the wall, his head tilted back and his eyes shut to keep the tears in as another one of his horrible headaches started to creep up on him. He needed to get moving before it could settle though, they became so painful that even when he rested in bed he couldn't roll onto his side without crying out in pain. But first he needed to read the letter. His hands shook as he pulled apart the envelope, his fingers gliding across the paper to pull the flap away from where it was sealed down, he did everything to draw out the time it was taking to do this, he wanted to avoid looking over whatever was inside this, and knowing Anti's twisted mind it could be anything.

But it was just a letter.

As Jameson’s eyes quickly swept over the hastily written and sloppy writing sprawled over the paper multiple times, regardless of the large letters that took up two or so lines and only continued on for a few lines at that, the tears that had been resting along his waterline began to spill down his cheeks as they made the switch from pain to sorrow, his face twisting up while those trails of water became thicker and moved faster and faster, his hand rising to cover his mouth, keeping in that sob that tried to break free from past its lips where it had laid imprisoned. But he wasn't able to hold it back for long, more silent sobs racked his body in a momentary release from the pounding in his head, his arms wrapping around himself to keep him close while he clutched the letter to his chest, to his heart.

 

I once trusted you, you had so much potential and yet you threw it all away. You killed the trust that I harbored from the time we spent on that ship together, speaking our beautiful language and laughing as we did so. But you let him beat me, and while you watched you did a wonderful impression of those movies you love so much. 

You stayed silent. 

You let him kill me.

 

And still he made no true sound other then the ones his body was forcing him to make in his distress, his tongue didn't move and he just couldn't seem to get the words he wanted to say to form, he wanted to shout at the sky and beg for Anti to forgive him for the horrible thing that he allowed to happen; wanted to tell him how much he hated himself for never parting his lips to allow those words to slip past and land on the ears of a teacher or a fellow student, it didn't matter who he told it just matter that he told them, but he never did and his fellow Irishman was dead because he couldn't whisper two simple words, five syllables: help him. 

There was nothing he could ever do to make up for the life that had been lost because of something that he had knowingly allowed to continue, nothing that would ever bring him back to the land of the living and all he could do was pray that he was in a better place where no one could ever lay their hands on his pale skin again. That his mother would no longer have to send every penny that she made over to her son so that he could try to get the education and career that would pull his family out of their poverty state and give them something to look up to; he was their last chance, and now he was gone. He could only assume that his family would take Anti's body and have it cremated so that his ashes could be placed in a beautiful jar to be sent to his mother across the seas where she could hold him close and protect the clay pot, unlike she could protect her son. His family must have had this done by now though, at least the first step of the entire process as it was only two days until Monday and thus Anti had been gone for nearly a week; perhaps, if only he could find the address listed on the paper in his hands he would be able to convince his uncle to allow him inside where he could properly apologize for what he had done and maybe even be able to begin coping with the death himself. Ignoring it had ever happened was doing him no good.

So with that thought in mind that gave his brain the chance to formulate and shape it into a proper plan, he was able to ignore the pounding at the back of his skull and push himself onto unsteady legs and rise to his feet, supporting himself with a hand on the brick wall to his side in case he were to fall. He looked down the alley towards the street so he could see what the name of said street was, he recognized the name and knew the different roads that branched off from it, so with a double check of the address in his hands be emerged from between the buildings and started to make his way down the sidewalks; merging with the crowd until he had to move to a different side or take a turn where he would eventually become apart of a new formation of people, the pattern continuing until he was walking down the battered, sidewalk absent street that lead out of town and eventually onto another gravel road. He walked over the railroad tracks when he came upon them, only the tip of his foot falling into the light that was otherwise blocked from the surrounding buildings when a loud growl along with a more feminine complaint drifted through the air and filled his slightly pointed ears, causing him to stop and peak around the building, hoping, just hoping that those voices didn't go with who he thought they did. But of course, they were.

The intimidating form of Robbie came past the opening as he walked along the path that was beginning to turn to a powdery dirt, the particles leaping up to swarm around his feet and dirty his, already stained and worn, country blue jeans that hung off of him in the obvious hand-me-down style that only complemented the rest of his farmer wear attire. But alongside him was the beauty that everyone still couldn't come to a conclusion on: how Robbie was able to snatch her up and acquire her love. Jacklin's short and curvy frame filled out every dress that she owned, even the boxy ones as she had that much to offer. She was hurrying after him with a distressed face that connected with the annoyed face on her boyfriend's, showing that the two were having an argument, that is, if the obvious words being loudly shared between them wasn't enough of a clue for that.

"I can't believe you just tore it up and threw it away!" The man rolled his eyes at that persisting detail of what had happened earlier that day when the two were at his house and he had discovered a faded purple piece of paper in the mail.

"I didn't jus' throw it away, I put it ta good use an' kept yer feet warm." He smiled in an honest expression of pride at what he'd done to the letter as soon as he had seen the name across the front of it. Jacklin didn't seem too happy though, hurrying in front of the male in an attempt to get him to stop while she frowned and a crossed her arms, her hip popping over to the right while her head cocked to the opposing left.

"You didn't even read it, how couldn't you have been curious as to what Anti had to-"

"Don't yeh ever mention that fuckin' rats name again or I swear ta God I'll make sure ta knock some sense inta ya." The look of genuine shock and somewhat horror was enough to tell anyone that he had never said something quite like this to her before, taking a step back in fear of angering Robbie anymore with her wide, ocean blues nearly on the brink of tears while she protectively wrapped her arms around her stomach. She had a question to ask him, it wasn't going to be as snappy as she intended with that threat hanging in the thick air around them, she wanted to know why they were heading to the Irishman's home if he didn't even want to hear his name; but the words got stuck on her tongue when she noticed a man standing in the background behind Robbie, from the distance she couldn't tell that it was Jameson, so she squinted to try and make him out better, only catching the aggressive male's attention. He turned to look over his shoulder and when he spotted the vague silhouette of the smaller man hidden by the shadows he instantly reached out to move Jacklin back as he fully turned to bark out at whoever had been listening in on them.

"The fuck 're ya lookin' at?! Who the hell are yeh, get your ass out here?!" He knew from experience that it would do nothing but harm him further then to try and turn so he could run, so he went completely against what his instincts were telling him to do and he stepped out into the light with his head hung down, looking at the dirt and rocks his feet were kicking around as he shuffled forward. 

"Jameson?" He had no chance to answer the question as the other laughed loudly and quickly made his way over to him with a large smile on his face, but once the younger had lifted his head and spotted the sinister look in his eyes he realized his mistake and tried to duck away, but he was snagged by his collar and pulled back to where he was met face to face with Robbie.

"Oh-ho, I see yeh got one to." Both of their eyes darted down to peak at the dark blue envelop sitting at the top off all the other bits of mail in his hand, after that quick second they were once more staring at one another, but the smile had been replaced with a menacing snarl. 

"Yer comin' wit me to go and pay the fucker's uncle a visit."

 

 

~~~~<>~~~~

 

 

Jameson tried his best to escape from the hold on his button up, that was surely wrinkling it but that didn't matter how, he struggled against him and thrashed about widely in hopes of wiggling out of his grasp but it did no such thing and when he paused to take a breath that air was stolen from him from the force of his forgotten headache slamming into him like a truck as a fully formed migraine. He couldn't struggle any longer after the impact that blurred his vision and brought tears to his eyes, pathetic mewls the only retaliation he could further carry out as he was dragged along the path by Robbie; there had even been a few seconds he had to run when the larger man had bent down to grab the mail that he had dropped before he grabbed his bicep and once more he couldn't fight back. The letter that he had dropped was being used as a set of directions as Robbie hadn't actually know the deceased's address until now, in a way it a slight relief to have this brute and his gorgeous girlfriend leading him as while he knew the city quite well he didn't know the countryside surrounding it like these two did, he'd never have been able to find the house on his own had it not been for them. The walk took a little over an hour to complete and it suddenly made sense to Jackson why it had taken so long for him to receive the mail, as the trucks went through the busy streets daily they only traveled this far once a week. All throughout this trek the small Irishman had been mumbling whenever his head hurt the least and he could actually get the words to form, it was always the same thing though, a warning to Robbie about the man they were going to meet, he had only had brief contact with Anti's Uncle, but that time was enough to show him what kind of person he was. And while Robbie was fine with beating on anyone he cared to this older man held the same mindset, but he appeared to share some of his nephew's mental problems as he was much more gruesome than this bully could ever hope to be, he had nothing against striking a child.

His warnings fell of deaf ears though and even Jacklin wasn't listening to him at this point, engaged in a happy conversation until she spotted the house before them and tugged on her boyfriend's shoulder to get him to look over; it was a small house that was more equally sized to that of a shed, with rotting wood making up the porch and a pitiful excuse of a chicken coop standing beside it, both structures looked like they were about to collapse at any second. Robbie laughed at the sight of it, and if this farm boy could laugh when comparing someone else's belonging to himself then that was saying something, his house was so small there was no room for him to sleep in it, his room was in the loft of their barn. They took careful steps up to the high porch of the home, the two men had to jump with they lifted the smaller woman onto the wood that groaned with their collective weight, it was in such a bad state that there were multiple new boards lazily nailed down over splits and holes. As Jameson was busy looking over the area and feeling his heart grow heavy when he saw what Anti had been surrounded by, Robbie had waltzed straight up to the busted door and knocked loudly on the door, catching the others surprise and gaining a shocked gasp from the other man who approached to try and stop him, but he was unsuccessful as he knocked once more. And the door opened, but no one was stood behind it.

It was getting dark.

That little odd occurrence didn't deter Robbie though, he pushed the door open the rest of the way and stepped through the threshold and into a large room that seemed to work as, well, everything; a kitchen set up was settled in the corner with a few torn chairs and a coffee table that was missing a leg placed next to it, across the room was a kerosene lamp hung on a hook over a battered mattress with no frame, it was absolutely filthy, covered in dirt and stains with a thin feather pillow and a wool blanket that only looked big enough to cover a child respectfully placed on it. There was only one other door in the entire house and it was directly in front of the one they had just entered, it looked to be the nicest thing in the entire house, a handcrafted piece of oak that had even been polished, they knew it wasn't the bathroom though, as there was a small outhouse they had passed on their way up the drive that had to have been on the property, even though it was a good two minute walk away. Jameson tried to back away, he was still on the porch and he'd had preferred to walk back in the shadows of the setting sun rather than step foot in that house, but when a delicate hand wrapped around his wrist and urged him to step forward with the girl he knew that he was going to have to going there weather he liked it or not. 

"Jesus, I always knew he was nothin' but trash, ye think that he and his uncle had ta share the bed? I know I sure as hell wouldn't 'ave, would've made the rodent sleep on da floor." Neither of the two in his company spoke in regards to what he had said, both turning to look down and away as they sank into their old habits and allowed Robbie to continue to disrespect Anti, even in his death they couldn't stand to defend him, how pathetic. 

"Let's see what's behind the door, bet it's the ol' man writin' more letters to try and screw wit' peo-"

"Ye t'ink he wrote t'ose?" The couple turned to the normally silent man with surprised expressions resting on their features, neither of them could actually remember if they had ever heard him speak before, and the man himself was surprised that he had said something himself, his weak and annoyingly accented voice nearly bringing tears to his eyes. 

"Did yeh even look at t'e date? They were sent before he-" 

"So yer saying that da psycho had this all planned out, is ya?" Jameson didn't say anything more after that, standing in place for a second while his eyes darted all over the room until they, finally, landed on his face and he gave a confident nod to signify his answer. Robbie only began to laugh and turned away from him, walking the few more steps needed to reach the door and grasp its handle, the others quickly followed after him, a look of fear in the younger males eyes while his brain desperately searched for words to possibly say, something that would convince him and get them all to leave, they shouldn't be here. Something was wrong and he just couldn't figure out what it was, all he knew it's that they needed to go. A strong hand once more took ahold of his arm and before he could register what it was doing there the door was being yanked open and that hand suddenly showed its true purpose, as it shoved him inside the room. The force sent him stumbling forward, his feet catching on one of the objects the ground was littered and sending him tumbling to the ground with a harsh thud that forced the air from his lungs for a second. He pushed himself up onto all fours with small pants that came from his facing heart, the laughs of Robbie filled the small house easily and only further mocked Jackson who was now shifting up onto his knees and look up so he could peer around the bedroom. 

It was in the same second that he noticed what was right in front of him that he threw himself backwards onto his butt, his feet planting on the hardwood floor along with his hands as he violently shoved himself away from where he was sitting into the wall behind him, gasping when he came into contact with the solid structure. He covered his mouth with both of his hands while he silently screamed and pulled his legs closer to his chest, no matter what he did he could pry himself from the sickening sight before him that sent those familiar tears rushing from his wide eyes and clauses his stomach to twist at the repulsive sight and bile to rise in the back of his throat. The laughter that echoed throughout the two rooms stopped as soon as Robbie had stepped into the room to take his own look at what was inside, his already pale skin taking on a sickly white while his feet were glued to the floor, he couldn't get himself to move away or even make a sound. For a few seconds there was almost no noise, other then the terrified gasps the hiccuped from Jameson as he cowered against the wall, but the silence was broken when the third member of their part stepped into the open room, as soon as she saw what was on the wall she screamed bloody murder. Which was quite fitting with what they were seeing. 

Sprawled along the wall was the man they had came in search for, his hanging and bloody body so badly mangled that had this been in the city no one would have ever been able to identify him. He was in a standing position with his arms spread slight above his head, one of his hands was held onto the wall by a large knife that had gone completely through his hand and into the wall behind him, leaving nothing other then the handle to show what the object was; his other arm was held to the wall in a similar manner but it had one key distinction, a large section of the lib had been chopped away at mid forearm, leaving the broken bones and severed flesh to stick out of the opening, it was held in place with an ice pick that appeared to have been hammered into place. His legs hung from where they were connected at his hips, the jeans that covered him shredded enough to show the array of gashes and stab wounds all along his thighs and the sections of his calves that had been peeled from their places on his skin, both of his knee caps had been popped out of place and were covered in blood, one of them had been properly cut out. He was missing multiple toes and fingers, which had been made into a necklace that was draped around his neck. 

His lower abdomen was cut wide open, from side to side which allowed for his intestines to fall out of his body, but even they were not spared as they were hanging on his arms and a piece of his small intestine had even been tied into a bow around his hips. A large amount of blood soaked the front of his jeans along his crotch, but none of them wanted to dwell on what that would mean. They could clearly see his face, as a fishing hook had been hooked onto a section of sink on the back of his head the tied his head back from where the other two ends tied to it were hooked into his shoulder blades and gave then a good view of the butcher knife that had been driven into the side of his face, cutting through both eyes and along the bridge of his nose were it rested. The part of his arm that had been removed from his body had been stuffed into his mouth, poorly done stitches around his lips kept it clamped down on his own fingers. The final touch was to his chest that was exposed by the lack of clothing on it, his chubby skin had made the perfect canvas for the blade of a knife to substitute to a paintbrush that wrote across his upper chest. 

'SEE WHAT ITS LIKE?'

He wasn't even the only body in the room, surrounding his feet all across the floor were the scattered corpses of multiple pigs, they must have come from a pen they hadn't seen, all of their hooves had been chopped off and laid casually beside them; all of their throats were slit and other then that there was no further harm done to the animals. There was one severed head that laid at the base of the man's feet, it's dark eyes were still open to stare back at anyone who were to look at it, slightly glazed over with a shade that was only a bit lighter then the black fur that covered its head and the grey horns that curled from where its base was at the top of the animal's skull. Symbols painted in blood continued to act as decorations to the walls throughout the room, and while they made no sense to the cowering couple they explained so much to the boy on the floor, the symbols and the goat head was all that he needed to see to know that whatever had been here and done this had been demonic.

Jameson was yanked from his spot on the floor by that hand that just loved to grab his poor bruised arm, pulling him to his feet and out of his traumatized shock while he was quickly herded from the room but the very one to shove him in there in the first place; Robbie let go of him once they were out of the room, giving him the chance to see that he had also gotten a sobbing Jacklin out of that bedroom as well. She was clinging to his arm with her face hidden in the sleeves of his shirt as she continued to scream into his shoulder, his arms wrapped tight around her waist to hold her close while he tired to get her to calm down so that he could get them out of there. But Jackson was way ahead of them, taking off for the open door as soon as his senses came back to him and he could properly control the functions of his body again, he didn't care if there was a murderer lying in wait in the darkness wrapped around them, waiting to attack whoever was to leave the house next, there was something evil in here and he would take his chances in the pitch black. Though, he never got this choice as the door suddenly slammed shut as soon as he was in arms reach of the door handle, eliciting an embarrassing yelp to burst from his chest at the loud noise the wood created and that it had happened at all, horrified eyes trying to pull on the nob in a fleeting hope for it to budge, which it didn't. With the door shut there was no real source of light, and they were all left to tremble in the darkness with no way out. 

"Leavin' so soon~." All three of their heads snapped towards the source of the sound, a voice that spoke from somewhere behind them, spinning around showed them what it was and where it came from, getting them to quickly back away from the figure that was slowly leaving the room of horror as though he was floating across the floor, his shoulders didn't move while he walked like they should have, but he was twitching constantly. Those bright green eyes they could all remember were now legitimately glowing in the dim light of the house, offering the only source of light to the three terrified teenagers who couldn't properly respond to seeing the man they had witnessed slitting his own throat standing before them as though it had never even happened, it just couldn't be happening. As horrible a person as he was, Robbie still didn't want Jacklin getting hurt so he pulled her closer and did what he always did when in situations like this, he began to yell at Anti, or at least he tried. Because with a little wave of his twitching hand he was able to seal his tormentor's lips shut and freeze him to his spot, he watched with glee as he struggled to try and speak, to shout at him no doubt as that was what he did when his feeble mind couldn't comprehend something. Violence would be the only thing he'd ever know, but it wasn't like he would have much time left to learn something new. 

Anti began his approach once more towards the two stuck cuddled together, the insanity that normally only popped up in certain places, such as a laugh or his smile, was the main expression settled on his face and it incorporated every little detail of him, it all just screamed that he had finally lost his mind. The closer he got the more Robbie tried to struggled against whatever was wrong with him, his limbs felt heavier than lead and even though they were still wrapped tightly around his girl he just couldn't move them no matter how hard he tried to do so. Jacklin turned to bury her face once more in her boyfriend, to hid from this dead man with her eyes scrunched shut while she faced his chest, turned away from the Irishman who was so close now that he could have bent down and been able to plant his lips on the back of her spine, and even when she could feel his presence behind her she didn't dare move.

"T'is is no place fer a woman at t'e moment my dear," his high pitched voice was cracking in random places as well as changed in pitch, a prominent noise was cutting through the air, it sounded almost like Jameson’s radio when he turned to the wrong frequency, now that he thought about it Anti's overall appearance and sound reminded him of that, of static. When Jacklin did nothing but shake he rolled his eyes while his large brows furrowed in annoyance when his quick temper flared, leaning down far enough to the point that he began considering feeling what her tender skin would feel like along his lips. 

"Yer allow ta leave, I suggest yeh go." The whisper was only loud enough to reach her hair covered ears, the tone sending shivers down her spine and soon coils of disgust as Anti did what he had wanted and and placed an opened mouth kiss to the exposed skin of her soft neck. Panic began to set in when she felt the protective arms that were keeping her close begin to pull away from around her, she quickly looked up to see why in the world Robbie would be letting go of her, only to find him gritting his teeth as he struggled against Anti who was pushing his arms down to his side with no trouble whatsoever. He cocked his head as he looked down at the girl who was just staring at the locked door, catching the eyes of the other male who did nothing but stand there, he didn't know what to do and the lack of action was starting to get on his nerves so he planted his hands on the girls shoulders and shoved her towards the door with a scream to leave.

"Get t'e fock out before I do something ta t'at t'ing of yers!" That was all the motivation that she needed to get the gears in her head to turn and her feet to move her across the floor, ignoring the hisses and creeks from the floorboards as she raced to the door and grab the handle, it wasn't locked anymore and she wasted no time in pulling it open, turning to lock eyes with the only other one still in control of their body, tears had stranded her cheeks and made them a bright red while her eyes were bloodshot, the blue so much more noticeable. 

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry." She quickly shook her head and looked away from him while she shed more tears and raced out the door without another word, leaving the two at the mercy of this being that resembled the old Irishman they had all helped to destroy as she had done smoothing that Jameson could never forgive her for: she slammed the door behind her. The door instantly locked and once more the men were faced with no way out of whatever Anti had planned for them. With the confirming sound of the door closing the heaviness in Robbie's body disappeared and he quickly stumbled back to hold his arms that were freezing from where he had been grabbed earlier, blue handprints had began to form in the spots and weather they were bruises or they had just been that cold he couldn't tell, it felt like both. Anti tuned his head for the first time to stare at the man across the room, he was trembling in his spot so violently that he was genuinely surprised that he had not fallen to the floor by now, the crazy gleam in his eyes was still there, but his smile was much softer when he directed it at him.

"There yeh go, jus' do w'at ye've always done. Stand t'ere and be silent." There was no aggression in his voice, nothing negative even remotely laced the words and that shocked him more then what he said. 

How could he look at me without yelling, where's the hatred that I deserve to have thrown at me? 

There was an evident shift in his entire demeanor and it was when this small moment being shared between them was interrupted by a punch delivered directly across his face, sending his head to the side while his neck audibly snapped and cracked from the blow, the large gash, that had once so profusely bleed and now was just scabbed over and stained, along his throat opened up in some places and sent droplets of blood flying with the movement of his head. But he didn't even budge an inch, his head and hair was the only thing to really move, the twitching of his body faltering for a moment as he turned back to Robbie at an exceedingly slow speed, anger seeped into his calm expression as soon as his eyes landed on the taller man who always managed to get him fuming.

"Ye jus' made t'is whole t'ing so much better." The spastic movements of his figure returned once he had finished his surprisingly toneless comment on that brash and idiotic action, his hand came up to gather some of the blood dripping from the cuts (which Jackson hadn't actually seen until he had enough time for his eyes to adjust to the lights) that had been opened onto his fingers and raise them to his hair, where he tangled the digits into his matter locks and began to style it up with the substance as though it were gel. When he dropped his hands he reached behind him, his arms folded behind his back while he began to giggle evilly like he use to, standing on his toes so he was at eye level with Robbie as he spoke. 

"Got any t'ings ye want ta say?" The answer was instantaneous.

"Fuck you." 

"Figured as much." And without warning he swung his arm from behind his back with an object clasped tightly in his hands, there was no light to reflect off the blade so neither had any inkling of suspicion as to what it was until a scream was received from the long blade slicing open his stomach and nicking the side of his forearm. Robbie ducked down to hold his stomach as blaring pain shot through him and he tried to keep his organs inside him, the knife was blaring hot and had cut through him like he was butter, making it so easy for him to drive the entire length of the knife into his side. He was originally planning on striking him along the bottom of his ribcage, perhaps slipping the blade between the different ribs and twisting when he pulled back to break them, but that would cut into his stomach and possibly puncture his lungs. He wasn't allowed to die yet. So with both of his hands he stabbed him once more in the soft flesh of his side, yanking him towards him by the handle and effectively tearing open a new large hole, throwing him to the floor in the process. He came down onto his uninjured side with a cry of pain and that of so familiar crash that they were so use to hearing, the scenarios were flipped and with the power he could feel rushing into his head Anti began to understand how this weak man before him could love to hurt someone in such a way, the sight of his tears and the blood seeping through his fingers to puddle below him was somewhat arousing. He sat his foot on the shoulder facing up, pushing on it lightly at first before slamming his foot down on it, sending his back into the ground and shattering some of the bones in his arm at the same time he dislocated it with his inhuman strength. 

He began to laugh as his veins were flooded with adrenaline and even went as far as to giddily clap like some sort of child when they were shown something amusing, and that was quite the case at this moment, there was nothing that Anti could think of as more hilarious then to watch the man that had harmed him for years sob and squirm under him, blubbering like a baby who had just been woken up. Anti stood over him for a moment, his feet on either side of his chest, before he reached down to grab the collar of his shirt and pull it up enough for him to lift Robbie a good few inches off the ground, slipping the knife into the small opening with no care as to cutting him, he sliced his shirt open wide enough for it to rip the rest of the way with the weight resting on it, sending him back to the ground with another cry of agony. His arm was laying limply at his side and offered him nothing but pain with every little movement to any part of his body, it was completely popped from its socket and he could do nothing with that arm any longer, and it was his right one too. Once Anti was done tearing apart his simple clothing covering his abdomen he took a seat on his lower legs, staring down with excited eyes at the gashes in his stomach, the amount of blood leaking from his body was enough to get him overbearingly impatient, yet it held his interest long enough that Robbie though it would be smart to try and fight back with his non-dominant hand; but he didn't even bother to lift his head at the motion and instead he raised the knife high and stabbed it through his hand, pinning it to the floor like he had done to his uncle. He was screaming and bleeding just like he had been, but while the older man had been end him over and over to stop what he was doing, there were no words coming from this one, only sobs and screams. Still, he loved them nonetheless. 

"Yeh always have ta make it harder on yerself." He commented with a chuckle that could have applied to any other occurrence, and yet he was using it to laugh at the man he had so many plans for, mocking him with how calm he was being even when he wanted to drive that knife into him over and over, aim right for the stomach and watch as his intestines tangle and split around the blade, spilling even more blood and spewing liquids from his digestive track all while he laughed and laughed and-

"P-please." The sob was so quiet he barely heard it over his other cries and whimpers, having trouble with what he said for a moment before he began to repeat it over and over in a chant that got him to shake his head and laugh. He turned back to his stomach where his organs were already pushing against the holes he had made in an attempt to escape their confinements and forcing the skin around it to bulge, splitting the skin a little wider from the pressure they were applying, it was an entrancing sight and Anti planned on letting them free. Robbie had indeed made this harder on himself, without the knife to help split him the rest of the way over all he could use was his fingers, grabbing at the sides and tearing them apart wide enough for him to reach in and scoop out one of his many folds that his small intestine created inside of him. The screams of horrendous pain that broke from Robbie's chest only made Anti anticipate what he was going to do even more, pulling more of the ropes of his warm and slick organs and bring them to his lips. And with another wave of his hand their eyes were locked and the pair of blues couldn't look away as he was forced to watch Anti dig his teeth into him and rip off small enough shreds to swallow, gulping down pounds of his skin and at one point becoming so blinded in bloodlust he buried his face into his stomach and ate directly from their. It was watching this that caused him to die, as the disgusting sight and the feel of him feeling around inside him, the pain and the fear that sent his heart into overdrive made him vomit, and it was this and a mixture of blood that he choked on. 

Anti could tell that he was dead as soon as it happened, but that didn't stop him from enjoying himself a little longer, finishing off his meal by shoving his arms inside of him, drifting up and feeling along his ribs to guide him to his heart, tearing it from its valves and arteries that use to pump his blood throughout his body. A shiver ran up his spine and a sexual moan resulted from the blood squirting once he bit into one of the chambers and swallowed it. He frowned though, pushing the muscle back inside of him until it rested in its proper place, Robbie's punishment was far from over and his curse wouldn't work if he didn't do this, so he released the heart just as it began to beat again. 

He stood up to take a look at the body he recognized as his newest masterpiece, the details of his face fascinated him, his blue eyes were now a pale and sightless grey that complimented his now sickly white skin tone. There was one thing missing though, but he easily fixed it with two quick hits to both eyes, smiling in satisfaction when the dark bruises began to form and give him two black eyes, finally he was content and he could move on to the other male after retrieving his knife and a small article of clothing from his pocket where he had shoved it into. 

"Here, t'e colors suit ye." And with the remark out of the way he rolled the cloth into a bundle and threw it at the feet of the dead man, the black and white striped shirt unfolding over his legs as soon as it hit.

A quick glance in the direction he had left him showed Anti that Jackson had moved, but it wasn't hard to find him considering the small space there was to go, he was curled up in the other corner on his old mattress, back pressed to the corner of the wall while he shook and cried into his knees, rocking back in forth in an attempt to keep himself from looking over to see what was happening. Soft footsteps was all it took to get harsher sobs to bubble up from his throat and cause him to lose his internal war and look up into the toxic green eyes that stared back at him with sympathy, that expression made no sense though, and neither did his slow movements onto the bed so that he could be seated a few feet away from him.

"I don't want ta hurt yeh," he started out in a whisper that was meant to come the other Irishman, but it only sent more tears down his cheeks from the terror he was feeling, Anti crawled a little closer to him and sat his hand comfortingly on his knee, he looked away from him as he took a deep breath that ended with a sigh, "but I have ta." That comforting hand slid under his knee and wrapped tightly around his calf, yanking him towards the demon and easily sending him onto his back as he screamed and thrashed to try and get free. Anti crawled on top of him in order to keep him still, his knees pinning his legs down to the dirty mattress while he held his head back with a hand pressing into his forehead, till he could get him to stop thrashing, nor could he stop the screams and cries.

"Anti Anti Anti Ant Anti!" It had been a very long time since he had last heard Jameson speak, three years at most if he could remember correctly, and the fact that it was his name would have brought a smile to his face under any other circumstance, but here he was begging for his attention so that he could try and get him to let go.

"I'm so-rry, I'm s-s-so sorry, I wish I had n-ever done what I di-d! You don't deserve to be de-e-ad, it should be me!!" His eyes opened and instantly Anti was hit by the emotions that swam within them, they swarmed around him and tried to drag him down into their depths, but he just couldn't let that happen. 

"Ye don' know how much I care about yeh, I want yeh to know that I forgive yeh fer what yeh did, I could never ever stay mad at ye." And it was the complete truth, never had he been truly angry with him for his actions and lack there of, this was one of his closest friends and he'd always hold a spot in his heart. But Jackson could accept that.

"H-ow?! I fockin' killed yeh! I could have saved ye an' all I did was watch!" He was sobbing so hard that he was nearly choking on his own words, he had begun to hyperventilate and it all broke Anti's already badly damaged heart, he didn't want to hurt this smaller man and his cries tore him to pieces with the sound, but he wasn't lying when he had said that he had to punish this man. He could stand to hear those piercing noises anymore or see his wide and terrified eyes stare pleadingly into his any longer, so he carefully wrapped his hands around his throat and began to squeeze, cutting off the majority of his screams. When he felt his airflow cut off he only started thrashing about more wildly with his arms flailing, they weren't restrained and thus he was allowed to pound his fists into his shoulder and the side of his neck, even going as far as to scratch at the gash across his neck, only sending drop of blood to splash down onto his face and mix with his tears. He tried to kick, but he couldn't even make them budge from under Anti's legs, his strength greatly acceded his own, which really wasn't all that hard if he were being honest. 

"Shhhh," he whispered to him, releasing his grip on his throat by an amount just enough for for him to be able to suck some air into his lungs, which he did in a strangled gasp and multiple gulps, but just as he had exhaled in order to take another life saving breath Anti's hands tightened once more. He was stuck without any oxygen in his lungs to keep him conscious, his hands trying in vain to grab his wrists and pull his hands off of his neck, scratching to the point of drawing blood on the others arm, but no matter what he did he couldn't get Anti to stop. 

"I'm jus' tryin' ta calm yeh down, get yer throat a lil' numb." Maybe it was the lack of air that made him slowly stop struggling against him, perhaps it was his reassuring words that only brought more fear with what he was implying, or it could have been that he had finally given up and he was done with fighting and amounting to nothing no matter how hard he tried. 

No matter what it was, he was ready to die.

But Anti wasn't ready to LET GO 

He finally pulled his hands away when his face had turned a nice shade of purple and his heart beat had gone down by an exceptional amount, he didn't even try and take in air once the pressure on his neck had been relieved, his vision was swimming and the migraine from earlier was helping to slip him into an unconscious state that he would gladly be accepted into. But Anti had moved on to his next task a little too quickly, grabbing his chin and forcing apart his lips in order to see down his throat, searching around until he finally spotted what he was looking for, he looked at the size of his knife and figured there'd be enough space for him to reach in and hold down his tongue with two fingers, slowly sliding the blade past his fingers and his tonsils. The tip of the sharp metal just barely touched what he was going for, and that sharp pain woke Jameson from his daze and forced a scream from him, causing his body to clench and convulse around the blade, filling his esophagus with blood. Anti should have waited until he had passed out, but then he could have drowned in his own blood without a proper way to fix it, so maybe in the end he did it the right way. And that way was exceedingly painful. 

The small shed like house that's nearest neighbor was off in the city was filled with screaming for the next five minutes as Anti tore out his friends vocal chords, it wasn't like he used them anyways. There was so much blood, so much pain, so much . . . 

Screaming. 

Screaming.

Screaming. 

Screaming.

Screaming.

And then . . .

 

 

 

 

Silence. 

 

 

 

 

 

It was Monday morning when Jackson was finally found, stumbling down the dirt path that lead into town, by a bus driver he noticed he was hurt and immediately called to tell the school he would be late dropping off the kids he had already picked up and couldn't get the rest. After a few hours of admission into the nearest hospital he had and parents were told the new of his injuries and the results they had gained from their tests. 

No one ever found the body of Robbie.

Jacklin could never find someone else to hold her close after what she had been through, everyone knew that she had left them to die.

And never would Jackson ever say another word. 

 

But there was also the case of the yellow evolve that was never delivered, its contents never read and the curse that had been set upon the woman it was addressed to ever discovered until it was too late.

I know what's growing inside of you, that disgusting creature that is half of you and half of a violent man who will never live long enough to meet his child. I wish I could hurt you, that I could do to you what will no doubt happen to him, but I would never lay my hands on a woman, especially not you. So let's just hope that this child of yours isn't a boy, because then he's fair game.

But it wasn't a boy, and neither were the grandchildren who came after that one girl, it wasn't until sixty years later that make children were finally born. And in honor of his great grandmother he was constantly called by her same name. 

 

 

 

I never really had the desire to be seen by those around, especially my peers, and until I had grown up I preferred to stay out of sight and thus out of their minds which could never result in a confrontation with someone, or at least I thought of it this way. Maybe I was just a pushover who simply sat back and watched as my fellow Irishman was tormented and humiliated, never to open my mouth and speak in fear of becoming another victim. But that would insinuate that I had suffered, and while physically I had I deserved the punishment bestowed upon me. I did not deserve a voice that I would never use. But please, 

 

D o n t W O R R Y I m H E R E


End file.
